


Rubik Cube

by ciaconnaa



Series: Rubik Cube [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Iron Dad & Spidey Son, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 13:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16493738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaconnaa/pseuds/ciaconnaa
Summary: Peter wakes on Titan with a start, his memories nothing more than a disheveled Rubik Cube that takes more than a few minutes to sort out. For hours he can only get one side, frustrated that he simply can’t peel the metaphorical stickers of his thoughts and cheat for all the answers to the questions of what just the hell happened. All he knows is that coming back hurt a hell of a lot more than leaving.And Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.





	Rubik Cube

He wakes on Titan with a start, his memories nothing more than a disheveled Rubik Cube that takes more than a few minutes to sort out. For hours he can only get one side, frustrated that he simply can’t peel the metaphorical stickers of his thoughts and cheat for all the answers to the questions of what just the hell happened.

But what he does know is that returning from the dust was a _hell_ of a lot more painful than disintegrating in front of Mr. Stark. The decay of every single part of him was _frightening_ and _slow_ and yet the pain of it all was muted in the terrified look in Mr. Stark’s eyes. Returning from wherever the hell he was is quick and _sharp,_ like the first gasp of air after breaking the water’s surface or the zap from a defibrillator. He’s disoriented and confused and in _space_ and--

Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.

“What--What happened?” Peter, the _other Peter,_ the one from Missouri, asks, and Peter is jealous that he has found his voice so quickly. He’s afraid to speak and he doesn’t know why.

(He does know why. Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.)

“I don’t know,” the praying mantis lady says. She’s looking around with purpose, like she’s making a head check. She notices they’re one down, too. “Where’s Nebula?” she asks, turning around. Her hair bounces like there’s no gravity. For a moment he feels bad. He forgot about Nebula. “And you--” she snaps her head Peter’s way and _points._ “Your father is gone, too.”

Peter doesn’t make the correction. Can’t, really. And he doesn’t want to.

Dr. Strange looks as tired as Peter feels, shakily getting to his feet. “Earth,” he pants out. “Earth, we have to get to Earth. The answers are there.”

Peter isn’t sure he wants them. He continues to sit on the ground and looks at his iron-clad hand, watches as the bright red becomes rusty-looking with every scoop of dirt he holds in his hand.

He was _ash_ and now he’s _not._

Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.

Dread wraps around him like a heavy weight, pulling him to the ground, and he’s not sure he can ever stand again.

“Hey, kid?” Missouri’s voice sends a familiar kick-start to his heart and Peter’s head snaps up, eyes wide and glossy. _Kid._ “Say something so I know your brain didn’t get etch-a-sketched in the….the…”

“Reassembly,” Praying mantis lady offers kindly, but she doesn’t sound so sure herself. She’s not paying much attention as she helps brush off their blue-looking friend.

But Dr. Strange is the one that marches over and pulls Peter to his feet. His eyes are wild, constantly darting about, like there’s still danger lurking. But Peter feels numb. His spidey-sense is quiet. It’s not danger Dr. Strange feels, it’s _dread._ There’s worry in the wizard’s eyes as he holds Peter up limply under one arm.

“You’re fine,” he says quietly, but firmly. He forces Peter to meet his gaze. “Everything’s fine right now, but we have to get to Earth, okay?”

Peter isn’t as observant as Michelle, but he notices his word choice of _right now._ He’s the time guy. He knows what’s going to happen. He has to. And that doesn’t comfort Peter. It scares him.

There were over fourteen million outcomes that Dr. Strange foresaw. Only one where they won. And here they are. They’re back. So they won. Maybe. And the time stone is gone, and Tony was supposed to be saved, but he’s not _here,_ and Peter isn’t ash anymore and Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found and--

It’s like he solves another side of the Rubik Cube.

And he promptly bursts into tears.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s wrong with him?” Missouri yelps, running over to try and help. His hand hovers over his back awkwardly. “Hey, kid, c’mon, we gotta keep it together. You heard the wizard guy, everything’s fine.”

_Right now,_ Peter wants to say. It’s okay _right now._

_But not for long._

He has the suit flick his mask back on.

It’s not okay. Not really.

 

* * *

 

The home Peter returns to is more alien than Titan.

Eventually, when they make it back on Earth with Dr. Strange's help, it’s to Wakanda. Under different circumstances, this place is Peter’s technological wet dream, but it’s foreign nature isn’t a comfort at the moment. It’s so different from everything he’s used to that he might as well still be back on Titan.

Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.

“I need to look at you,” a voice says beside him. She sounds so close, like she’s right on his shoulder, but when he turns his head he sees she’s across the room. “You’ve been in space, yes?”

His mask is still on. He hasn’t retracted it since he put it back on when they were on Titan. His mechanical eyes widen and he cocks his head to the side.

“I’m Shuri,” she introduces. “You’re Mr. Parker, correct?”

His eyes narrow, widen again, matching his crazed thinking. She’d only know his name if Mr. Stark had given it to her. Which means Mr. Stark came back to Earth and talked to her. He came back.

It’s a start.

Everything is still okay _right now._

He keeps the mask on while Shuri does basic scans, equipment gaining all his vitals without even having to touch him. Peter lies perfectly still on the table and listens to her muttering--she’s baffled by his genetic mark-up, he can hear it, but she doesn’t dwell on it. She doesn’t treat him like an experiment, and he’s thankful for that.

“You’re all good,” she finally says, tapping lightly against his mask-covered temple. The, “Promise kept,” she mutters under her breath doesn’t go unnoticed.

Something like hope leaps up from the dread pooling in his stomach. It finds his voice.

“P-promise?”

Shuri blinks as Peter retracts the mask, revealing his dirty face. There’s dry blood crusted in his nostrils and creeping into his hairline above his left ear. Her face remains stoic as she reaches for a wet cloth, the most homely thing he’s seen in days, and starts to gently wipe at his face.

For someone who has been so straightforward and professional, she suddenly can’t look him in the eye.

“I promised him I’d make sure you were okay.”

Peter knows who _him_ is.

He bursts into tears.

 

* * *

  

It’s Miss Potts who greets him in New York.

As soon as he had been given a bill of clean health in Wakanda, he was handed a phone and shoved on a plane, along with the Guardians and even Dr. Strange. May, Michelle, Ned--they all survived the snap of Thanos’ fingers. He listened to them talk during the hours it took to get back to New York. Their voices make him feel warmer, more aware of his surroundings. His hearing starts to feel more like super-hearing. His vision become brighter, sharper. The ache of battle starts to set in. His back hurts. He missed them. He expected to see them first thing when he got off the plane.

But it’s Miss Potts who greets him in New York.

She wraps him in a delicate hug. It’s by no means flimsy or uncaring, but it’s fragile. It makes his heart beat a little faster.

“Hey,” she whispers, smoothing his hair over. There are tears in her eyes and a smile on her face as she cups his cheeks with her hands. Her thumbs wipe away his own tears. He hadn’t even been aware he was crying. “You’re here. I’m so happy to see you, Peter.”

Miss Potts is by no means a stranger, but they aren’t that close. He doesn’t understand why she’s here. They’ve only ever had a few meals together, and always with Mr. Stark around--

Peter’s head snaps left, right. Up. Down. Looking.

Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.

“Sweetheart,” Miss Potts says, and Peter feels dread coil in his stomach again. It’s so strong it makes him feel sick. “I need to talk to you, okay?”

“M-May,” he stutters. “Aunt May. Michelle. Ned. I--”

“They’re here,” she says softly. “We’re going to go see them. They’re going to sit with you while we talk, okay?”

Missouri is suddenly behind him, a hand clasped on his shoulder. He hadn’t said a word to Peter on the plane ride over, but he could feel his eyes on him, watching, looking out. “Kid, hey. You’re getting pale. You’re alright, c’mon now.”

“Hey,” Dr. Strange’s voice cuts in. “Hey just…” he stops short with a sigh. “Just help him get to where he needs to go. Peter, you need to walk with us, can you do that?”

He doesn’t realize how his fear, his dread, has paralyzed him. Miss Potts is getting more teary-eyed as she looks at him, scared in her own right of just how Peter is going to break down. Because he’s going to break down.

Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.

 

* * *

 

He vaguely registers that May is holding one of his hands and Michelle has the other. Ned has a hand on his shoulder.

And the rest of the Avengers are in the room. All of them. Those who left, and those who stayed. Well most of them.

Mr. Stark is nowhere to be found.

Miss Potts explains everything clearly and quietly. He and half the universe had been gone for two months. That’s how long it took to right the wrongs. She talks about a quantum realm, of time travel and dimensions, of gauntlets and stones and--

It gets to a point where Miss Potts’ voice gets a little to thick to continue. At the slightest hesitation, Dr. Strange jumps in to finish. Because he knows. Because he _saw._

“Sacrifices had to be made,” he says, and Miss Potts nods pathetically, clasping a hand over her mouth. Seconds ago she looked impressively composed for someone telling the story of the end and revival of the world, and now she looks like she’s going to throw up. “In every scenario, no matter the good or the bad, the gauntlet was always going to need sacrifices.”

Peter turns his head, looks around. Makes a head count, his head feeling as light and gravity-defying as Mantis appeared to be back when she did it on Titan. He sees everyone except--

“Captain Rogers gave his life for us,” Miss Potts whispers, and Peter's heart drops. He doesn't know Captain America that well, hasn't even spoken to him since the fight in Germany, but it seems he worked with Mr. Stark when it counted. He saved the world, with Mr. Stark. He's dead, and that hurts even him.

“And--and _Tony--”_

She bites her lip, _hard,_ and Peter can’t _breathe._

“The gauntlet,” Rhodey supplies, walking forward. “He wielded the gauntlet.” He holds up his arm like he’s imagining that he’s the one wearing the thing. “And he--”

A pause.

Peter can’t _breathe._

“Peter, Tony’s gone.”

He bursts into tears.

Nothing is okay.

 

* * *

 

There’s a funeral.

And as Peter looks down at Mr. Stark in the casket, his left arm blown to smithereens from the gauntlet and replaced with one of his Iron-Man suit arms, Peter realizes that when Tony snapped his finger, The world was righted again. When Tony died, Peter came back to life.

No wonder coming back hurt so damn much.

 

* * *

 

Peter doesn’t touch his Spider-Man suit for days. Weeks. Months.

May doesn’t ask him about it. Neither do Ned or Michelle. He doesn’t know if they just assume he needs more time or if they think he’s given up being a superhero for good. They walk on eggshells around each other, too afraid to ask about what really matters.

Peter flip-flops emotionally. He’s scared of the future, a future without Iron Man, without _Tony Stark._ He's angry because Mr. Stark was his mentor and now he’s gone and Peter's nothing more than a fish out of water flopping around on a half-torn ferry boat or something.

But most of all he’s sad. He misses Mr. Stark. He tries to fit his memory into the new world around him, but nothing fits the bill. Nothing reminds him of his smile, of his wit, of his special Tony Stark brand of care. Not even Missouri’s occasional call of “kid” reminds him of Tony.

He looks and he looks but he can't find it.

It still feels like he can’t quite breathe.

 

* * *

 

Peter talks to Happy sometimes. Talks to Miss Potts, _Pepper,_ every single day. Two months after Tony’s funeral, she calls him with news.

“I’m pregnant.”

Peter bursts into tears.

They aren’t entirely unhappy though. Peter is still scared, still angry, still sad. Tony is still irreplaceable.

But this way, not all of him is gone.

 

* * *

 

The months go on and so does his life. Peter goes to school. He attends decathlon practice, he rejoins marching band, he does it all.

Well, almost all of it.

He hasn’t touched the suit since they told him Mr. Stark died.

He hasn’t thought about _being_ Spider-Man, not really, but the suit itself doesn’t really ever leave his mind. Mr. Stark made the suit, made it especially for him. Karen is a unique AI that he programmed for a teenage superhero.

He doesn’t have the Iron-Spider; he gave that back to Pepper a long time ago. But the original suit that Tony made him, he still has. The mask is long gone, probably drenched in the ocean when he fell off the spaceship that fateful day so long ago, and that’s...a problem, he supposes. Can’t be Spider-Man without the mask, is his excuse. There’s probably a spare at Tony’s--well, _Pepper’s place._ He doesn’t ask though.

But Pepper tells him.

“He made you a new one,” she tells him one day over lunch. Her due date is fast approaching, her stomach bumping up against their little cafe table. She talks with her mouth full; it’s not disgusting, she isn’t spitting out food, but it’s something she’s never done before the whole...snap situation. Outwardly, she’s different, if only a little. He wonders how different he seems. He wonders if anyone notices.

Peter doesn’t eat much these days, only enough to get by. This lunch he’s opted just for a cup of coffee and a side salad. “Made me a new suit?” he asks, brow arched. “When did he do that?”

“No, not the suit,” she says. “Just the mask.” She rolls her eyes. “He spent hours on it. Every day we spent formulating a plan while you were…. _gone_ , he’d spend at least two hours a night working on your mask. No matter where we were, he found a lab and worked. Every day, for the two months you were gone. I have _no_ idea why it took so long. But I have it. It’s yours to keep whenever you want it.”

That seems...strange, even for Mr. Stark. He is-- _was--_ a genius. He could make an entire Iron Man suit in a fraction of that time. So why so long on a mask?

“I want it,” he finds himself saying, and Pepper smiles.

Something in his stomach stirs, but the feeling is not unwelcome.

He orders a sandwich to go.

 

* * *

 

Happy drops the mask off the next day, but Peter doesn’t even open the silver case for another week.

It sits on his desk like a shrine. He cleared all his other papers and knick-knacks off the desk, moved the shawarma receipts to a shoebox under his bed and just lets it….sit there. He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to look at it, put the mask on, but a part of him feels like he can’t. Not until he can put on the whole suit.

Not until he can be Spider-Man again.

And he’s not sure if he ever can be.

He waits.

 

* * *

 

Pepper has her baby. It’s a girl. Her name is Morgan.

When Peter goes over to meet her for the first time, Pepper says, “Morgan, this is your big brother, Peter. He’s gonna help take good care of you, okay?”

This time, Peter’s cries are a lot more subdued. A lot less violent. A lot more happy.

He loves her instantly.

She looks nothing like Pepper. There’s no blue eyes, no strawberry blonde hair. Her eyes are brown, like his. Like Tony’s. Her hair is dark like, his. Like Tony’s. He makes a joke about drawing a goatee on her and it makes Pepper and Rhodey laugh.

And when Morgan smiles at him for the first time, he lets out the biggest sigh of relief.

He can finally breathe again.

 

* * *

 

One day, a sunny Friday afternoon, when Pepper doesn’t need his help with Morgan, when Michelle and Ned are busy, when May is at work; when he has absolutely nothing to do but _think,_ he decides to open the case.

The mask looks just like the old one--exactly the same. He remembers what Pepper told him about Tony taking two months to make the suit--every day of his last two months--and he frowns. It looks exactly the same.

But it can’t be.

He slips the Spider-Man suit on, still stank and unwashed from being worn underneath the Iron-Spider on Titan all that time ago, but he doesn’t mind. The new mask is soft and clean. It feels like memory foam in his hands. It feels like home.

Peter puts the mask on and his specs come to life. He waits for Karen’s voice to come through.

It doesn’t.

_“Hey, Kid.”_

Mr. Stark. It's Mr. Stark's voice.

Peter's heart nearly stops.

_“There’s a lot that’s going on, so listen up. Right now I’m working with everyone that’s left to get you all back, and we will. That’s a promise. You might not like my methods, you might not like the cost but kid...Peter….”_

He sniffles, holds back his tears, and waits.

_“You said you didn't want to go. So I’m not going to let you go. You don’t have to go. I’m gonna find a way for you to come back. I'll do anything for you. I'l do anything for you to come back and stay. And Pete?”_

He gasps on strangled breath.

_“Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry for this. Sorry doesn’t cut it, remember when I said that? It doesn’t cut it because there’s nothing to be sorry for. Don’t be sorry. Hell, don’t be a lot of things. Don’t be sad. Don’t be angry. Don’t…..don’t give up, okay? You’re Spider-Man.”_

Peter swallows.

_“I don’t think I’m gonna come out of this unscathed….but I didn’t want to leave you hangin’, bud. I’m your mentor and I promised that I would guide you. So I tried working something out. Leaving cheesy messages for all your birthdays. You know, something straight out of those Hallmark movies you like so much. I mean, I still did that. You’re still gonna get those until you’re 100 so you better live that long. But...it’s not enough, is it?”_

Peter shakes his head. It’s not enough. Not really.

_“I had some help from Shuri--she’s smart, smarter than me maybe, so you should hang out with her--and I came up with the best solution. I hope you don’t mind. I retired Karen.”_

No. He didn’t. He _couldn’t._

_“I’ve been recording like crazy, uploading it to FRIDAY’S databases. Working on a new program. It’s all logged in here. After this message is over….I’ll be your new AI.”_

Peter can’t _breathe._

“ _Sorta. It’s my voice. With some of my personality programmed in. It won’t be the same, I know. And if it’s too much….or not enough...go talk to Shuri and she’ll have FRIDAY reinstall Karen. I won’t be upset, I promise. I just…._

_I guess I didn’t want to go either.”_

Peter cries.

_“Hope my AI isn’t too annoying. And he’ll only respond to Tony. No more of this Mr. Stark nonsense. And listen...I need you to remember this. You don't always listen to me. Are you listening?"_

Oh, he's listening.

_"I’m so proud of you. Of Spider-Man, too. But first and foremost, Peter Parker. Always. Best of luck, kid. I_   _love you. ”_

His voice crackles out, and Peter falls to his knees so hard, he dents the floorboards in his bedroom. He can’t believe he went to all this trouble….not when….not when….

Tony is irreplaceable.

And maybe he's right. It might be too much or it might be too little.

But it might be, if just for a little while, just enough to help him be who he used to be. It might be the crutch he needs.

Peter can certainly carry the pieces of what’s left of him. For Mr. Stark, Peter can do anything.

Including being Spider-Man.

 

* * *

 

And just like that, all the sides line up and the colors match.

The Rubik Cube feels complete.

 

* * *

 

"Alright, Tony, what do you have for me today?"

His AI's voice rings through, clear as it was all those months ago. _"There's a robbery of some petty bodega down the road, if that's your style."_

"No crime is too small a task for Spider-Man, you know that," Peter says, adjusting his mask before he shoots a web and starts swinging. "Looking out for the little guy, remember? That's how it all started."

_"Of course, Kid. I haven't forgotten."_

Peter smiles.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I decided Peter calls other Peter Missouri. 'cause it's funny.  
> Pepper got pregnant in the two months it took for the remaining Avengers to reverse the snap. I know what ur thinking. Would that reverse everything and make it like those two months never happened? Including a pregnancy? Not in this story. Fuck science and logic, amirite?  
> I wrote this all in like 5 hours WHAT the hell.  
> Night.


End file.
